Always a Woman
by Neverland Regular
Summary: A songfic that looks at Ariadne's relationships with the three main men of the team. A/A in the last chapter.
1. Eames

Always a Woman

_**A songfic about each of the main guys' views of Ariadne. I was listening to the song and it just made me think of her character, and how each of them think of her. Also, I know the verses are jumbled, but I wanted to put each character's opinions in a particular order. Each chapter is a verse and a character's opinion.**_

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_She is frequently kind,_

Eames never thought he'd get to like her quite as much as he did. The girl was a real sweetheart, through and through. Naive? Slightly. Too curious for her own good? Very. But after first meeting her it took Eames about two minutes to realise that she was going to be everyones' morale. Whether it was from simply asking someone if they were alright, to making coffee and tea for people when they needed it, but hadn't asked, she added a feminine touch of normalcy to their hectic schedules.

_And she's suddenly cruel,_

"That building looks a little crooked, darling."

Her eyes slowly came up from the paper box she was crafting to meet his with a steely glare. "Eames, who's the architect, here?"

"That would be you, my love."

"Exactly. And what is it the architect does?"

"They build."

"Yes. We build. So, if you don't mind, would you please let me do what I do best?" She raised an eyebrow and he couldn't help smiling. "Please?"

Once she thought he was gone she picked up a ruler, quickly checking whether or not the box was actually crooked.

_She can do as she pleases  
She's nobody's fool,_

"Where are you off to, at this late hour?" Eames had just removed the drip from his arm, preparing to go to bed, when he saw Ariadne by the back door of the warehouse shrugging in to her coat.

"Out." She said, attempting wide-eyed innocence.

"By yourself?" Eames tutted, sitting up and crossing his legs, raising an eyebrow.

"Not exactly."

_Now _he was interested. "And what do you mean by that?"

"I'm meeting someone." She blushed and Eames was sure it was involuntary. Sweet, but involuntary.

"And who might the lucky gentleman be?" Eames sat up a little straighter, inclining his head to one side. "Actually, I'm quite offended that it isn't me."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"Give Arthur my kindest and most sarcastic regards, wont you?" He winked.

She smiled; it was a pure and devastating twist of her rose coloured lips. It was completely honest, completely true. For someone like Eames whose profession was attempting to fake such expressions, he missed the days when he didn't subconsciously psychoanalyse a person's every move. "Of course I will. Goodnight, Eames."

"And when you run out of things to talk about – what with Arthur being, in my opinion, one of the most boring people on the planet – feel free to insult me. It will get you in to his good books."

"Goodnight, Eames." She repeated, rolling her eyes as she shut the door behind her.

_And she can't be convicted  
She's earned her degree_

She had taken to this line of work faster than anyone Eames had ever known. It was like she was meant to be a dreamer, meant to build and create on a level she couldn't have achieved anywhere else. She had the imagination that Eames was always trying to tell everyone they needed; _he _understood, at least, that it was crucial. As did she, it seemed.

_And the most she will do  
Is throw shadows at you_

Inevitably she, like everyone else, had low points. He could see them coming – she would sit back from her desk with one hand to her head, dropping the pad and pen and letting her eyes glaze over as she thought about just what she was doing.

"We're going to be destroying this man's inheritance, making him believe things that aren't true – things that never happened. All so Saito can get more money in his pocket, right?" She always went to Eames when she started to feel this way. To Arthur, this was a job and nothing more – the man reeked of a strict professionalism that made Eames' nose wrinkle. To Cobb, this was a plane ticket, immigration papers and a phone call made by Saito that would allow him to try and pick up living in the real world where he left off.

Of course, Eames didn't feel bad about doing it either, but at least he understood.

"We're not hurting him, Ariadne. We're rekindling a father-son relationship – isn't that something to be happy about? And he doesn't need that empire. Too much power corrupts people."

"Don't you ever feel guilty? For all the things you fake and steal?"

"No. Not anymore. And you can't make me feel guilty either, love. So don't try." When he said this she looked away; he always knew exactly what she was doing.

He leant against the desk she was sat at, putting his hands in his pockets and watching her.

"You'll get over it." They were words meant to comfort.

She nodded, picking up a biro and tapping it idly against the blank page in front of her. Eames could still see doubt and guilt in her eyes.

"Take a break." He decided. "Draw something for yourself, and once you're ready to start acting like a professional dreamer and the co-conspirator of many ruthless and cold-blooded thieves again, let me know."

She gave an appreciative nod and slumped in her chair slightly, like a weight had been taken off of her shoulders. "Thank you, Eames."

"Or, you could take a leaf from your sweetheart Arthur's book and act like there's a ruler up your arse all of the time."

When Eames went to sit at his work station the next day, there was a piece of paper folded on his desk. A cartoon of an unhappy looking Arthur in one of his customary jumper vests and ties, with a ruler sticking out of the back of his trousers. It was signed _A. X_

_But she's always a woman to me._


	2. Cobb

_**Thank you to **Vicky Flores**, **EmoGleek**, **the magic is real**, **Strange.. **and **Queenofinsanity **for the reviews! Greatly appreciated, and also to everyone else who put this on an alert or favourite story. So, two down now, one to go. I'm still itching to write more Inception fanfiction, though. Any suggestions? **_

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_She can kill with a smile._

Cobb began to think of her as a protégé. From when she first came down those steps, intrigued and with a natural curiosity plain on her face, he knew she would be good at this. How good – he couldn't have imagined.

And yet, he still had doubts, even when they were on the roof and he first asked her to draw a maze. They were good mazes, even the ones he solved in under a minute. But he had been an architect, just like she was going to be; these mazes would have stumped anyone with average intelligence.

He needed someone who could outdo even himself.

And then she came up with the maze that made him have to pause and think. When he glanced up from the pad she was smiling, genuinely grinning at the fact that she'd beaten him. This man who didn't mean anything to her; someone she had outwitted when they hadn't been expecting it.

He was involuntarily reminded of when he first met Mal.

_She can wound with her eyes._

She suited dreams. 'Running before you can walk' was a phrase that fitted Adriane perfectly. Cobb didn't stop her when she bent the world of the dream in half – he couldn't have, even if he'd wanted to. He was in awe of her creations. Miles had been right – she was better than he had been, back when he'd created, not extracted.

And she just kept going, striding ahead of him with no intentions whatsoever of holding back. He knew the feeling, the power rush you got with being able to create anything you wanted.

When his subconscious began attacking, even though he knew she wouldn't be properly harmed – only woken, he still feared for her. He saw the terror in her eyes when Mal appeared, knife in hand.

When they were awake, that terror was still there, pure and unbridled fear. The way she looked at him, terrified, shaken, wondering what on earth she'd gotten in to; it stung Cobb like a blade. She was scared of _him._

_She can ruin your faith with her casual lies._

"You dream a lot, once everyone else is resting or busy." The comment was casual, but her gaze was intense. Searching him for something.

"I do." There was no denying it. But he didn't need to go any further in to his private affairs; not with this rookie who noticed too much.

"About Mal?"

She needed to stop. Part of Cobb, most of him, wanted her to be quiet and avoid the subject, just like Eames and Arthur and everyone else did. He wanted her to steer clear of his past, whether she was being lead there by concern or inquisitiveness.

Part of him knew he needed someone to ask. Someone to talk to. For his own sanity.

"Can you promise me something?"

She seemed startled that he'd ask something like that of her, but pleased. Maybe she thought he was finally starting to trust her - that they were bonding, becoming closer like she was with the rest of the team. The fact was, she knew him well enough already. She just had no idea.

"Sure. Whatever you want, Cobb."

"Don't follow me in there."

She paused, taking this in and staring right through him – why did the girl need to dream with him, when it felt like she was inside his head already? He looked back at her, years of lying and stealing having earned him a perfect poker face.

"I won't." And to think, he'd believed her.

_And she only reveals what she wants you to see,  
She hides like a child,_

After she'd seen the beach, and their old house, Ariadne looked at Cobb differently. He'd had no intention of ever letting her see the hotel suite, because he knew that would push her that little bit over the edge.

But she ran to it. He didn't want to know what Mal had said to her in that broken room, but when Ariadne was cowering in the elevator behind him, she was cowering from him just much as she was from Mal. She thought he was insane, just for those few minutes before they woke up, she could see all his problems and troubles and secrets as if they were laid out in front of her, with detailed explanations accompanying them.

Yes. The evidence would draw anyone to a similar conclusion.

But after they'd woken up, she reigned in her fear and locked it away. She comforted. She reasoned. She put him, a near stranger, before her own doubts and worries. Her thoughts were not, as another person's may be "Oh God, I'm working with someone who should be in a mental home". They were "How can I help this man to move on?".

A day later, when they were about to depart for the airport in Sydney, she managed to worm her way in to walking beside him. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"I think this is going to do a lot for you, Cobb. I think it's going to help."

He didn't respond. He merely glanced at her, and didn't remove his hand. He knew she was being kind, gentle, caring. He knew she didn't deserve the silent treatment, but right then it was all he had to give. He didn't scare her anymore – at least, if she was scared, she didn't show it – and her concern was something he didn't deserve.

He and Yusuf hadn't told anyone about the risks they'd added to this mission, and staring in to her young, trusting face, Cobb a stab of gut wrenching guilt. For all he knew, he could be leading her to her death.

None of the team members were supposed to talk whilst boarding the plane, with Fischer in earshot. None of them were supposed to know each other, but Ariadne managed to slip him a quiet word. He thought it would be something wishing him luck, or a reminder about a recovery plan in the incident of something going wrong.

"Say 'Hi' to James and Phillipa, from me."

_But she's always a woman to me._


	3. Arthur

_She can lead you to love,_

Arthur had thought it was very irresponsible of Cobb, involving a young, naive student in such dangerous illegal activity. More irresponsible than Cobb usually was, that is. But that was before he had met her. She turned up at the warehouse, fresh-faced and investigative; wanting to know everything all at once because this was something she'd never imagined could be real. It was as if she was scared it would all vanish if she looked away for just a second.

Even after she'd been attacked by Cobb's subconscious, attacked by Mal herself, when Arthur knelt by that chair to try and calm her down he could still see the dream in her eyes. Skyscrapers and cathedrals and towers, being reflected fleetingly back at him as she realised the enormity of just what she could do. Like she'd been infected with a virus – it was quickly seeping through her and suddenly it became everything.

Arthur knew exactly when it had happened. About three minutes after Ariadne had left the warehouse with no intentions of coming back, he realised that he had very little idea who this girl was, and even less of an idea as to when she would return (but she _would _return).

He also realised there was a distinct possibility that, if she became part of their team, he could quite easily fall in love with her.

_She can take you or leave you,_

Arthur was generally a shy person. He also prided himself on being professional and focused, whether it was when he was researching targets at a desk or staring down the barrel of a gun.

But, because of this, his general rule of thumb was never to become romantically involved with anyone whilst in the midst of a job, especially a job as dangerous and complicated as inception. Which is why, as much as he regretted it, at the beginning he turned down all and any of Ariadne's advances towards him. He had to – for both of their sakes. Not to mention, he was surprised she felt that way about him, of all people.

"Arthur, it's late. You've been working all day." She hovered over his shoulder, her eyes scanning the open files he had in front of him with faked interest; he himself hadn't really been paying attention to them since she'd entered the room.

"It's my job." As much as he wanted to swivel his chair around to face her, to tug her in to his lap and forget about the work he had to do, he couldn't. He stayed staring at the desk.

"I was wondering if you fancied a break...do you want to come out for a drink, maybe?" Her tentativeness was startling for someone who had the capacity to be very direct and blunt when she wanted to.

Arthur paused, putting down the file in his right hand and sighing – God knows he wanted to go with her, he really did. "I can't, Ariadne. I'm sorry."

"Oh." Jesus, she sounded crushed.

Arthur was about to suggest an alternative, but she spoke again.

"Alright, don't worry about it. I might go and find Eames, see if he wants to..." She let her voice trail off. Arthur wondered if she knew just what she was doing to him, really. But whether she did or she didn't, he would not rise to that bait.

"...Eames?" He lasted thirty seconds before turning in his chair – she was already half way to the door. "You'd go out drinking, with Eames?"

"Yes. I don't see why not." She paused, turning to shrug at him. "I like Eames. And there's nothing stopping me, is there?"

Why did Arthur feel as if that was being directed at him? She gave him a small smile, shutting the door with a soft _click _behind her. Arthur ran a hand over his slicked back hair, sighing and wondering whether or not he'd made the right decision.

The next day when Arthur came in to the warehouse after lunch, he saw Eames and Ariadne sat in the corner of the room, whispering. They were laughing softly about something; the sight made Arthur grit his teeth. They glanced up, falling silent when they saw him and trying to stifle their mirth, like children caught in the act of something. Arthur wasn't sure he wanted to know what.

Ariadne shot Eames a conspiratorial glance and he winked back at her.

After that, Arthur never turned down an invitation from Ariadne again, lest she fall any further in to Eames' clutches.

_She can ask for the truth  
But she'll never believe you_

"You know what? I think your rule is a load of bullshit, Arthur."

They were alone in a hotel suite in Sydney, the night before the plan was set to go in to action. They were supposed to be sleeping, resting up for the big day. Instead they were arguing, and they'd only just gotten through the door. Infact, she wasn't even supposed to be in there.

"Why do you think that?" His tone was calm, measured. Unemotional. That probably made her angrier.

"You can say you like me as much as you want, but you've never done a single thing to _show _it." She glared up at him, defiant and angry and beautiful all at the same time. "Actions speak louder than words, don't they, Arthur?"

"But words have to do for the moment." Arthur murmured, turning to fold his coat over his arm and then over the back of a chair. "As soon as this is over-"

"Promise me."

Arthur turned back to look at her, startled by the fact that she seemed to be on the brink of tears. Her hands were curled in to fists at her side. There was suddenly a lump in Arthur's throat, making it hard to swallow.

"Why would you need me to promise?" He asked softly, looking at the floor. What was a promise, really? Words couldn't mean that much – hadn't Ariadne only just said how actions spoke louder?

"Because...Because I'm scared that the second we land at that airport, you could vanish. Just like that. And I'll never see you again because really, how much do I know about you, Arthur? How would I be able to find you again unless you _promise _that _you'll_ find _me_?" Her lips were trembling, as were her words. Arthur was mesmerised by the moisture rimming her eyes and making her eyelashes stick together.

"I promise." How could he do otherwise?

"But...what if you're lying? What if you're only saying that to humour me?" She took a step back from him. "I bet...I just seem like immature little kid to you, right?"

"No, Ariadne, you don't understand how-"

"I need proof, Arthur. Okay?" She turned, heading for the door. "Give me proof."

_And she'll take what you give her, as long as it's free;_

He'd wanted to run after her out of the hotel room, take her by the wrist and pull her in to the best kiss she'd had in her life so far. Right then and there. Just like that.

But by the time he'd built up the nerve she had vanished; she wouldn't answer when he knocked on her door. Eames had the room opposite to hers, and Arthur was tempted to sit out in the corridor, just in case the forger went to comfort her.

By the next morning his nerve had gone. _Well done Arthur, _a voice in his mind that sounded horribly like Eames told him as he boarded the plane. _You can quite happily take part in a highly illegal heist, fully aware of the horrific consequences and with absolutely no worries at all, but you can't tell a girl you love her. Yes. You're certainly someone with your priorities straight, aren't you? Hmm?_

He had to banish these thoughts quickly, lest the annoying voice materialise in to an even more annoying projection once he began dreaming. One Eames was bad enough.

It was halfway through the second level of the dream when he'd plucked up the courage. In that hotel lobby. He'd have used any excuse; and at the time she'd thought that the kiss was a genuine way of drawing attention away from him.

"Yeah, it was worth a shot."

It took a few moments for it to sink in, but then she looked at him in sudden realisation. Something akin to shock. Happy shock, Arthur hoped, but there wasn't time to find out just then.

On the other side, at the airport when he was collecting his fake luggage, Arthur was expecting her to approach him about it. When she didn't – only flashing him a quick smile as she brushed past him to get her bag – he was left confused and oddly hurt.

It took him around three minutes to realise his wallet was gone from his pocket, and in its place a folded piece of paper.

_Nearest hotel. Nicest room. 7pm. Now you've got reason to come looking for me, even if you don't want to._

_A x_

_P.S. – It's worth a shot._

He caught a glimpse of her disappearing out of the glass doors of the airport. Considering the how inconspicuously she'd managed to take his wallet, Arthur realised that she had indeed spent far too much time with Eames. He would have to try and bring her back to the good side of thievery.

_Yeah, she steals like a thief  
But she's always a woman to me._

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**Was it awful? I'm really worried it's awful. All the reviewers kept saying how they were looking forward to the Arthur chapter, and now I feel worried about letting people down!**

**Please tell me I haven't?**

**P.S. - This certainly wont be my last Inception fanfiction. No way. :}**


	4. A Note

**_Well, goodness! I'm glad all you lovely reviewers enjoyed this so much. I had over a thousand views for this yesterday – over a thousand! I almost spilt my tea down myself._**

**_Honestly? Best thing that's happened to me in a while was scrolling through the reviews and letting them give me a little ego boost this morning._**

**_So, here's the thing...what do you want to see next? I have something in mind – only a very vague idea, which at the moment seems quite dark and gory and with possible character death. Or, y'know, I could do something light-hearted and fluffy._**

**_What would you guys want to see?_**

**_P.S. The song I based this on was _**_She's Always a Woman_**_, originally by Billie Joel, but preferably (to me, at least) when covered by Fyfe Dangerfield._**


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